


Mad House

by 1ittleblackdress



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Scallison, Smut, Stydia, lydia is his councillor, so basically it's set in an asylum, stiles is a murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2667884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1ittleblackdress/pseuds/1ittleblackdress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Stiles was left uncomfortable in the middle of a bunch of lunatics. She sauntered away from him like a goddess, and he couldn’t help but watch her. She was so jaw-droppingly interesting. He was going to enjoy playing with her emotions.'</p><p>Stydia AU: Stiles is an infamous killer at a mental institution who toys with Lydia, his therapist, mentally and physically. But is it really all just a game to Stiles? And can Lydia justify his history to get to know him for who he really is?</p><p> </p><p>Roughly based on void Stiles, cause as we all know, he's a dick to everyone.</p><p>But a sexy dick, at that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try and stick with this; but I'm useless at holding down longer fics. If you want me to keep going leave a comment or kudos it to motivate me, I beg you. How else am I supposed to figure out if you like it or not?
> 
> Thank yoooooooooou x

Lydia groaned in frustration for the third time in 5 minutes. More people with cameras shoved past her, almost knocking her off her feet completely. Some head case who killed a family, including their pet cat, was being transferred from a prison to this asylum. Lydia had worked here for 3 years with her degree in psychopathy. She liked counselling the patients but she didn’t like giving them food and supervising their lunches; which were mainly just games of monopoly and staring at the TV’s. She needed something that challenged her. “Hey, Lydia!” Scott called from down the hall. He was another employee here at hell-hole. “Hi, Scotty.” Lydia smiled, pulling him in for a hug. He looked pretty scruffy today. That was one of the advantages at this particular institute, they let you wear your own clothes. It was policy; because it made the patients feel more ‘at ease’. The ones that didn’t council wore uniforms though, it was a horrible yellow tunic thing with baggy smart pants. Lydia gagged everytime she saw one. She always ‘dressed to impress’ as quoted by Scott. She liked skirts and dresses, heels and pretty hairstyles. Scott’s face dropped slightly as he looked behind Lydia. She twisted her head to check what he was so interested in.

 The creepy guy was being shoved through the door, hands in cuffs. Lydia took in a sharp breath as she analysed his face; she wasn’t expecting him to be that, beautiful? He was hot, yes, but he was more of an angelic kind of hot. He had dark scruffy hair and whiskey colored eyes, that she realized were on her. She physically couldn’t pull her eyes off of him though, even as he roamed down her body. His lips were in a loose smirk as he returned his gaze to her face. He was shoved forward again, but continued to stare at her until he walked through the door. Lydia let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her whole body itched and she squirmed in her clothes, that suddenly felt too tight. She was slightly creeped out but slightly egotistical as it settled in that he was checking her out. She put on a smug smile and returned to Scott. She was going to have trouble with him.

 Stiles was pushed harshly through the open door. “I don’t think you bruised me hard enough.” He commented, rolling his eyes. The handcuffs were digging into his wrists and he’d already had enough of this place. He felt extremely watched, and looked up to see the glares of all the workers who knew who he was. They knew what he did. But they didn’t know why. He’d never tell anyone that. His eyes strayed to the right of him, less than ten meters away were the best pair of legs he’d ever seen. They were in gray wedged heels and a tight black skirt. He gradually made his way up to the equally as tight gray crop top, showing a tiny amount of stomach. Her strawberry blonde hair fell down her back in waves, landing just above her ass. She twisted her head around to look at him, starting at his waist, ending on his eyes. _Shit_. She had a stunning face, too. They held the eye contact until the asshole behind him shoved him yet again. He wanted to know her, he wanted to know her immediately. He was taken down a hallway or two, until eventually they came to a stop. Someone swiped a card into the little machine on the door, it beeped, and opened. “Your next break is in three hours. Get comfortable.” He was ordered, with the slam of the door behind him. He stood still for a minute or so. If anyone was watching the CCTV, they’d probably be creeped out. Once his legs began aching with the lack of movement, he sat on his bed and reached into the tiny cupboard beside his bed. There was a bible, and a book. Romeo and Juliet. Top quality entertainment, obviously.

 “Jane, I just think you’re not ready for the outside world yet. I’m sorry.” Lydia sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You promised though! You said if I really really tried this time that I could get out!” The whining 40 year old woman cried. “I said you had a chance of getting out. I know you’re trying, sweetheart, but it’s not enough. Not yet. Go back to your room, now. Break is in ten minutes.” Lydia said with a sweet smile. The woman sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. The escort by the door took her shoulder and guided her out of the room. Lydia groaned and placed her feet on her desk, finishing off her notes.

 “I’m just saying, Lyds, the way he looked at you was kinda weird.” Scott shrugged, eating his cheesecake. Allison wandered up to them. She had been a patient here for a year now, and in Lydia’s eyes, was completely sane. She was in here because in the most random and inconvenient of times she’d pull a gun out on people, but she wasn’t aware she was doing it. Because she was technically a ‘danger to society’, she was locked up in here. She and Scott had been secretly dating for 5 months now, and no one but Lydia knew. She stood next to Scott, fingers subtly intertwining with Scott’s. “Ally! How are you?” Lydia smiled, pulling her in for a one armed hug. “I’m really good, thank you. You know when my next session is with you yet?” The brunette asked. Lydia shook her head. “You know if I had it my way you wouldn’t be having sessions at all; and that’s not cause I don’t like you.” She sighed, stealing a bit of Scott’s cheesecake. Allison laughed and stole a piece too. Scott threw a hand up in the air. “Bitches. Here. Have it, slutbags.” He said with the best angry face he could muster up. The two girls giggled and ate the rest of the cake. “You suck. Cheesecake is my favourite, could have left some for me?” A new voice spoke. Stiles approached the group, hand on Scott’s shoulder. He looked at each of them, eyes prolonged slightly on Lydia. Her eyes, however, were just wide and staring at the floor. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourselves?” He added, with expectant raised eyebrows. As usual, Allison took charge of the situation. With a straight back and a all-business expression, she motioned to them all. “Scott, Lydia, and Allison.” She named.

“Lydia.” Stiles’s tongue played with her name under his breath. The redhead had renewed confidence thanks to Allison, and decided to look him in the eye.

“Stiles.” She copied. He raised an eyebrow at her and she immediately raised hers back without hesitation. His eyes squinted at her so she cocked her head to the side. At some point in their flirting Scott and Allison had wandered off. Suddenly conscious of how alone they were, despite being in the middle of a canteen, her confidence wavered. “I like your shoes.” He said with no emotion in his voice or any movement at all.

“I like your murders.” She replied, copying his stance.

“Really? I thought they were a little cliche.”

“They’re interesting.”

“How so? You don’t even know why I did them.” He narrowed his eyes further.

“I don’t have to. I can tell already you’ve never told anyone, and you don’t intend to. I’m going to find out why, though.”

“Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’m not telling you why I murdered anyone.” He smirked.

“Oh, no, I know that. I’m going to find out _why you won’t tell anyone_ , not why you did it.” She smiled sweetly back, walking away from him. She knew he was watching, so she ensured there was an extra sway in her hips. Stiles was left uncomfortable in the middle of a bunch of lunatics. She sauntered away from him like a goddess, and he couldn’t help but watch her. She was so jaw-droppingly interesting. He was going to enjoy playing with her emotions.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles settles into the place; and of course, pisses Lydia off a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took a while; I wasn't planning on continuing with the story. But many people had asked me to carry on so here I am. Sorry if it's shit.

Day 2 of the nut house. Stiles rolled his eyes the second he woke up. After lunch yesterday he’d been locked away again. He was expecting someone to come and ask him questions or at least talk about medication or whatever they did usually. He realized he was meant to have been woken up by a bell; but he woke up naturally. Looking at the rusting clock he noticed he had exactly 5 minutes until 7. The ‘wake-up time’. So he stared at the ceiling and thought about the tiny little redhead he met yesterday. What was her name again? Laura? Lily? Lydia? That was it. It suited her. He was pretty damn good at reading people and judging them, just by looking into their eyes and by the way they act. She was nervous around him, but she carried herself well. He was willing to bet she had a high IQ and an independent personality. Her legs, jesus christ, were incredible. She had absolutely perfect skin and very,  _very_ well taken care of hair. She clearly spent a lot of time on her appearance. He wondered how he could get to see her more often. He wouldn’t achieve much if he just had 2 minute conversations with her at lunch everyday. But she was in normal clothes, which he guessed meant she had more authority than the rats in yellow uniform. He hoped she was a therapist. Maybe then he could fuck her up. Metaphorically and literally.

 

 Lydia’s alarm sounded. She flopped her arm on the desk and moved it around in an attempt to press the button. Luckily, even her subconscious was skilled; and the beeping stopped. She let out a long groan and rolled out of bed with a thud. Lying on the floor, she almost fell asleep. But her phone vibrated right next to her ear so she sat up.

 **Mom: Sweetheart, after work today I was wondering if you’d like to go shopping? I’m teaching again and Lord knows I need a new wardrobe**. She giggled and yawned, typing her reply that agreed to the meet up.

An hour later she was showered and had her makeup plastered on. Well, she says plastered, but it’s more just a padding of pale foundation and a sweep of mascara. She’d decided to go with a clothing option that was a little, risky? For a workplace. It was a short cotton black dress that clung from her shoulders to her waist, than fell loosely till her upper thigh. Usually she had enough confidence to not wear tights, but with the length of her dress she didn’t want to be inappropriate and go bare, so she slid into a thick black pair and wiggled into her 5” boots. With a quick swipe of pink lipgloss she grabbed her bag and keys and made her way to work, which she was lucky enough to be in walking distance to.

 The wake-up bell rang just as she entered the doors. She could hear the tired moans of the patients that didn’t want to get up. Strolling into the staff room she immediately headed for the coffee machine. “You look nice.” Derek smiled, approaching her. He’d been trying to get her to agree on a date with him. But he was just too tall and broad and,  _manly_. You could practically smell the testosterone and beer rolling off of him in waves. “Not gonna happen, Der.” She said with a small tilt of the head as she turned to face the machine. She hoped to god he’d leave it at that but as per usual when it came to either of the Hale’s, he wouldn’t give up. “I put on this watch for you this morning! Look how feminine it is.” He sulked, shoving his arm in her face. “Derek, even with the watch, I’m scared I’d grow a dick myself if I spent anymore time with you. Next thing you know we’d be going to baseball together and you’d be calling me bro. I’d shave my head and hormones would give me a beard. Then people would just start assuming we’re a cute gay couple.” She said without stuttering, grabbing the coffee cup and sauntering off. “I don’t even like baseball.” She heard him mumble. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“Lydia! You’re gonna have to give the welcoming interviews with the newbies. Which includes the nutjob. And when I say nutjob, you know which one I mean.” Kate called out to her, pulling a face that showed she was dead. Signifying she meant Stilinski. “Are you fucking serious?” She called back to her. The blonde gave a look that said ‘tough luck’ and walked off, leaving Lydia stood in a puddle of nerves. She straightened her back and went to gather the stuff she needed for this shitty interview.

 Stiles had been making paper planes out of sheets from the bible when he heard a light knock. A female knock. He smirked, knowing who it would be before she even entered. “Come in, Lydia.” He said in a slightly threatening tone, kicking his legs over the bed. Sure enough, her heels came clicking in and Stiles held his breath as he noticed the innocent little dress she had on. No doubt on purpose, to try and ‘entice’ him. She dragged a chair in with her and sat down with her right leg over her left, letting her dress ride up a few inches. He allowed his eyes to stare at her legs, ensuring she got a good notice about where his interests lay. She coughed, asking him to keep his eyes on her face. She raised a brow at the planes but shook her head, focusing on the clipboard she had in front of him. “Someone should’ve done this yesterday. I apologise.” She muttered, still looking down. Stiles leant forward onto his hands. “How ever will I get over the distress of having it today instead of, gasp, yesterday.” He deadpanned. She scowled and returned to her board.

“Are you fully aware with why you’re here?” She asked in her best proffesional tone. This time it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Are you aware that from this day on you’ll be taking medication? Diazepam. It will relax your mind.” She asked again, keeping her head held high. Good girl.

“No, but I am now. I once took a load of diazepam and knocked out for a solid 48 hours. Good times.” He grinned, testing her. How long would it be till she cracked?

“Interesting anecdote. I’m so thrilled and inspired. Question three, are you aware of how long you will be in our institute?”

“10 years, then I get to experience the joys of prison for another 10.” He laughed, chewing on his bottom lip. She sighed and leant back into the chair.

“Are you,” yawn, “aware that you will have to have a 30 minute therapy session every day?”

“No. Who are the therapists? Are there any hot ones? Guys or girls, I’m not picky.” He grinned, falling back against the wall.

“Well, there’s me, Scott, Kate, Derek, Peter, Malia and Melissa. Malia and Derek are kinda hot and-"

“You.” He said with certainty.

“But-”

“You. I don’t care.” He smirked, staring at her eyes. She slumped in defeat and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Fine, whatever.” She sighed again. He rolled his eyes and kept the smirk on his face.

“I’m looking forward to this.” He stated, mischief in his eyes.

 Melissa was leant against the wall on lunch duty with Lydia, listening to her rant about her morning. “He’s literally so fucking infuriating. I’m not sure if I’ll kill him or myself first.” She whined, taking a couple of curly fries from the plate they were sharing. Melissa gave a comforting rub of her shoulder and smiled. Lydia loved Scott’s mom. Almost as much as she loved Scott himself. It was the McCall gene. It made them loveable. “Darling, we all have our least favourite patients. You never know, maybe you’ll learn to like him!” She smiled. Lydia scoffed and pulled a face. She was trying her hardest not to look to her left. Although she had to keep an eye on them all, she was avoiding Stiles as best she could. He was sat opposite Isaac; who wasn’t insane, just horny. The two of them would get along famously. Every now and then Isaac would look over to her, suggesting they were talking about her. “Is he still looking?” Lydia mumbled, watching Melissa glance over her shoulder. “Yep. Ooh, now both of them are. Nope, only Stiles again.” She bit her lip. Lydia moaned in frustration and shoved a huge bunch of curly fries into her mouth, pitying herself.

 “Is Melissa still checking up on us?” Isaac chuckled, taking a gulp of his water. Stiles kept his eyes on the girls.

“Yeeeep.” He smirked, stealing some curly fries. He loved curly fries. So much.

“What makes you like her so much?” The lanky, sexually frustrated boy asked, looking round at the females in the room.

“I don’t like her, Isaac, I’m interested in her.” Stiles chuckled, dipping a fry into a huge collection of mayonnaise he had squirted.

“So you wouldn’t mind me saying that I would fuck the life out of her then?” Isaac asked with a deadly serious look on his face. Stiles didn’t move his head but snapped his eyes up to Isaac, unmoving. Isaac pulled a face that meant he understood that he was pushing it. “Oh, okay. Okay, then. I’ll ask later.” He said, clearing his throat. Stiles kept his position, still staring up at him with a ‘are you fucking sure you want to go there’ look. Isaac coughed again. “Or never. I’m cool with that.” He said, nodding. Stiles returned his gaze to his plate and cleared his throat. “She interests me. If I could feel something I know I’d love her.” He spoke, looking at Lydia, who was now alone. She’d been noticeably avoiding looking at Stiles but her eyes connected with his. She didn’t look away, and neither did he. They just stared at each other. Him with mischief and her with frustration. He made a show of roaming his eyes down her body and by the time he got back to her face she was looking away, making a point. Smart girl.

 

Natalie Martin had picked Lydia up from work, and hadn’t stopped talking long enough for Lydia to even complain once. Which was sort of a relief, she didn’t know if she needed to rant or ignore the topic completely. Melissa had been a good shoulder to lean on about the situation and now she thinks she just needs to spend money on shoes she doesn’t need. She, as per usual, had spent the first hour picking up clothes for her mom. She’d picked up at least $500 worth of clothes and shoes and was now ready to buy herself some stuff. After all, what better way to pity yourself? No such thing as comfort eating in her books. Just comfort spending. She needed to fuck an older man with serious cash to his name. Maybe Peter? No, too evil. “Lydia sweetheart, you’ve barely touched your salad and have hardly spoken to me. What’s happened? Is something wrong?” Natalie asked, suddenly looking concerned.

“I’m fine mom, think I’m just sleep deprived.” Lydia smiled, leaving a tip for the waitress as she gathered her things. Once they left the cafe, Lydia headed to her favourite shoe store. She spent ten minutes strolling through the ailes, feeling all the shoes as she walked. She spotted a pair of heeled boots that screamed ‘I just killed a man and painted my nails at the same time’. They were 6”, which meant she’d be eye level with Stiles. Although that doesn’t matter. Not at all. Nope. She picked them up and dashed to the till, not caring about the cost. “That’ll be $300.” The lady smiled. Lydia wasn’t the least bit annoyed at the price. She just wanted them on her feet immediately. She threw the lady some notes and grabbed the shoes, ripping the reciept off of the machine herself. Sitting down, she swapped her shoes as quick as she could. When Natalie came out of the shop, Lydia stood up and did a little pose. “Sweetheart! They’re lovely.” Her mom smiled. Lydia grinned back and told her about the price, although Natalie knew she could afford it. “Anyway. I’m afraid we’re going to have to go soon; I have work in the morning. And just a heads up, if you ever decide to come over and Bobby is there. Don’t be alarmed. He’s a work very much in progress right now.” Natalie winked at her daughter. Lydia was repulsed, naturally. “Are you serious? Coach? Mom!” She yelled, probably going visibly green with nausea.

“Well, sports teachers tend to have a higher stamina! That promises a good night!” Natalie laughed, holding her stomach. Lydia made a gagging noise and started walking to the car, leaving her mom trailing behind laughing.

Stiles lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Isaac had become his new room mate, if you could call it that, and was silent in the bed next to him. Stiles closed his eyes and thought of long, strawberry blonde hair. Then there was speckles of blood, that were spraying against the hair. The woman sat up slowly and Stiles realised she’d been sat in a pool of the blood, her creamy white skin dripping in it. She flipped her hair and let it fall over her shoulder as she turned around, on her knees. Lydia had mascara running down her face, and a thick black tape covering her mouth. She screamed against it and screwed her eyes shut. Stiles tried to reach out, desperate to touch her and reassure her she was okay. But his arm wasn’t long enough, no matter how hard he tried. “Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” Isaac groaned. Stiles snapped his eyes open. His arm was reaching towards the ceiling, and his face ached from whatever face he was pulling. Stiles coughed. “Nothing.” He said quietly. Absolutely nothing.


End file.
